"Why?" said Julie. "It is so old and such a paltry affair, and of such trifling value too!" "It has a value due to its location, which you must not overlook. My uncle will give you thirty thousand francs for it, perhaps more." "This is the first time, my dear adviser, that you have advised me ill. I am very reluctant to extort money from a neighbor. What is it but speculating on the need he may have of that old building?" "Wait a moment, my noble client! My uncle does not need the pavilion; he wants it, which is a very different matter. He is rich enough to pay for his whims. And what would you say if he were grateful to you for your extortion?" "How can that be?" "Enter into personal relations with him and he will offer you a bonus over and above the price." "Fie! Monsieur Thierry! you would have me pay court to his gold?" "No, but simply bestow upon it a kindly, patronizing smile, and it will come to you of itself. Moreover, you will do a kind deed." "Tell me what you mean." "You will show my uncle that you have much esteem and affection for my aunt and cousin, and thus you will induce the old Crœsus to assist them seriously in their distress." "Then I will do it with all my heart, Monsieur Thierry; but, while I am already able to appreciate the worth of madame your aunt, what can I say of your cousin, whom I do not know?" "No matter, speak of him with perfect confidence. My Julien has a heart of gold, the high spirit of a man of birth, and a mind above his condition; he is the best of sons, the truest of friends, the most honorable of men, and the most reasonable of artists. Say all that, madame la comtesse, and if Julien's life ever offers the slightest contradiction to your words, drive me from your presence, and never again give me your esteem or confidence." Marcel spoke so vehemently that Julie was impressed. She abstained from asking questions, but she listened, without losing a word, to what followed this eulogy, when Marcel entered into details by which only the hardest of hearts could have failed to be moved. He told of Julien's care of his mother, of the privations which he endured without her knowledge, even going without proper food so that she might have enough. Therein Marcel, like Madame Thierry, unwittingly said what was not true. Julien had lost his appetite because he was in love, and Marcel, who had no suspicion of it, thought that he had divined the cause of that involuntary abstemiousness. But Julien was capable of doing much more for his mother than holding his appetite in check. He would have given the last drop of his blood for her; thus, while he did not tell the exact truth at that moment, Marcel said far less than the truth.